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The Banner Boy Scouts Afloat / Or, The Secret of Cedar Island

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The Banner Boy Scouts Afloat

OR

The Secret of Cedar Island

By GEORGE A. WARREN

1913

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I THE MYSTERIOUS BOXES

II GLORIOUS NEWS

III FOR CEDAR ISLAND—GHOST OR NO GHOST

IV LAYING IN THE STORES

V JUST AFTER THE CLOCK STRUCK TEN

VI THE GREAT CRUISE OF THE SCOUTS BEGUN

VII STUCK FAST IN THE MUD

VIII WHAT THE WATER GAUGE SHOWED

IX ON THE SWIFT RADWAY

X DODGING THE SNAGS AND THE SNARES

XI THE CAMP ON CEDAR ISLAND

XII WAS IT A BURSTING METEOR?

XIII THE FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND

XIV TRYING TO FIGURE IT ALL OUT

XV ORDERED OFF

XVI UNDER COVER OF DARKNESS

XVII PITCHING TENTS IN THE “SINK”

XVIII WHAT LAY IN THE BRUSH

XIX LAYING PLANS

XX THE EXPLORING PARTY

XXI A MYSTERY OF THE OPEN GLADE

XXII THE WIGWAG MESSAGE

XXIII STILL FLOUNDERING IN THE MIRE

XXIV THE DISCOVERY

XXV TIME TO GO BACK

XXVI HONORABLE SCARS

XXVII ANOTHER THREATENING PERIL

XXVIII PREPARED FOR THE WORST

XXIX LIFTING THE LID

XXX GOOD-BYE TO CEDAR ISLAND

XXXI A SCOUT’S DUTY

XXXII CONCLUSION

PREFACE

Dear Boys:—

It is with the greatest pleasure that I present you with the third volume
of the “Banner Boy Scouts Series.” This is a complete story in itself;and yet most of the leading characters you, who have already read thefirst and second volumes, will easily remember. I trust you will heartilywelcome the appearance once more on the stage of Paul, Jack, Bobolink andall the other good fellows belonging to Stanhope Troop of Boy Scouts.

Those of you who are old friends will recollect that while the Red Fox
Patrol was forming, the boys had a most strenuous time, what with a deepmystery in their midst, and the bitter strife resulting from theircompetition with rival troops belonging to neighboring towns. How thebeautiful banner was cleverly won by Stanhope, I related in the firstvolume, called: “The Banner Boy Scouts.”

In the succeeding story the Stanhope Scouts went on their first long
hike, to camp in the open. The remarkable adventures they met withwhile enjoying this experience; as well as the stirring account of howthey recovered a box of valuable papers that had been stolen from theoffice of Joe Clausin’s father, form the main theme of “The Banner BoyScouts on a Tour.”

And now, in this third book, I have endeavored to interest you in another
series of happenings that befell these wide-awake boys before theirsummer vacation was over. I hope you will, after reading this storythrough to the last line, agree with me that what the young assistantscout master, Paul Morrison, and his chums of Stanhope Troop enduredwhile afloat all went to make them better and truer scouts in every senseof the word.

Cordially yours

GEORGE A. WARREN.

CHAPTER I

THE MYSTERIOUS BOXES

“What are you limping for, Bobolink?”

“Oh! shucks! I see there’s no use trying to hide anything from your sharp
eyes, Jack Stormways. Guess I just about walked my feet off today, goin’fishin’ with our patrol leader, away over to the Radway River, and aboutsix miles up.”

“Have any luck, Bobolink?” instantly demanded the third member of the
group of three half-grown boys, who were passing after nightfall throughsome of the partly deserted streets on the outskirts of the thriving townof Stanhope; and whose name it might be stated was Tom Betts.

“Well, I should say, yes. Between us we got seven fine bass, and a
pickerel. By the way, I caught that pickerel; Paul, he looked after thebass end of the string, and like the bully chap he is divided with me;”and the boy who limped chuckled as he said this, showing that he couldappreciate a joke, even when it was on himself.

About everybody in town called him Bobolink; and what boy could do
otherwise, seeing that his real name was Robert O. Link?

As the trio of lads were all dressed in the khaki suits known all over
the world nowadays as typifying Boy Scouts, it could be readily taken forgranted that they belonged to the Stanhope Troop.

Already were there three full patrols enlisted, and wearing uniforms;
while a fourth was in process of forming. The ones already in the fieldwere known as, first, the Red Fox, to which these three lads belonged;then the Gray Fox, and finally the Black Fox. But as they had aboutexhausted the color roster of the fox family, the chances were that thenext patrol would have to start on a new line when casting about for aname that would stamp their identity, and serve as a totem.

An efficient scout master had been secured in the person of a young man
by the name of Mr. Gordon, who cheerfully accompanied the lads on theiroutings, and attended many of their meetings. But being a travelingsalesman, Mr. Gordon often had to be away from home for weeks at a time.

When these lapses occurred, his duties fell upon the shoulders of Paul

Morrison, who not only filled the position of leader to the Red Fox

Patrol, but being a first-class scout, had received his commission from

Headquarters that entitled him to act as assistant scout master to the

whole troop during the absence of Mr. Gordon.

“How did you like it up on the Radway?” continued the one who had made
the first inquiry, Jack Stormways, whose father owned a lumber yard andplaning mill just outside the limits of the town, which was really thegoal of their present after-supper walk.

“Great place, all right,” replied Bobolink. “Paul kept calling my
attention to all the things worth seeing. He seems to think a heap of theold Radway. For my part, I rather fancy our own tight little river, theBushkill.”

“Well, d’ye know, that’s one reason I asked how you liked it,” Jack went
on. “Paul seemed so much taken with that region over there, I’ve begun toget a notion in my head he’s fixing a big surprise, and that perhaps atthe meeting to-night he may spring it on us.”

“Tell me about that, will you?” exclaimed Bobolink, who was given to
certain harmless slang ways whenever he became in the least excited, asat present. “Now that you’ve been and gone and given me a pointer, I c’njust begin to get a line on a few of the questions he asked me. Well,I’m willing to leave it to Paul. He always thinks of the whole shootingmatch when trying to give the troop a bully good time. Just rememberwhat we went through with when we camped out up on Rattlesnake Mountain,will you?”

“That’s right,” declared Tom Betts, eagerly; “say, didn’t we have the
time of our lives, though?”